You'd Be The First
by BornAverage
Summary: /discontinued/ Three bashes to the head with an iron skillet, and Flynn Rider was sure he was only imagining the beautiful girl with the seventy feet of golden hair. The lingering saliva in his ear from her frog convinced him otherwise.
1. First Encounter

Title: You'd Be The First  
>Author: BornAverage (formerly drunk on moonshine)<br>Genre: Romance/Drama  
>Rated: T, for mild violence<br>Characters: Flynn/Eugene, Rapunzel  
>Chapter <strong>1<strong> of **?**

Summary: Three bashes to the head with an iron skillet, and Flynn Rider was sure he was only imagining the beautiful girl with the seventy feet of golden hair. The lingering saliva in his ear from her frog convinced him otherwise.

_Author's Note: Hello, all. I just recently got into Tangled—more like obsessed—and decided to write a short multi-chaptered fic for this fandom based on Flynn/Eugene's point of view of the movie, starting at when he meets Rapunzel to the very end. So, forgive me if you find Flynn/Eugene a bit OOC. I'm new to this fandom, so don't hold back your thoughts on my version of the characters. :P I'd really appreciate the feedback._

Disclaimer: Heck, I don't even own the Blu-Ray copy, or any promotional merchandise. How on earth could I own the whole franchise, nonetheless the script?

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><p>A whack to the head with a frying pan was all it took to knock out the notorious thief, Flynn Rider. Various lights and colors filled his vision before he was introduced to the cold floor. He awoke moments later, the pain behind his eyes strong and burning. And almost as soon as his eyes snapped open, he heard a feminine gasp and was then met with the familiar pang of metal clashing with his skull.<p>

Something thin and slimy slapped his left eardrum, instantly jolting him conscious. He couldn't recall ever being in a chair... Flynn was suddenly aware he was bound to said chair, and saw what appeared to be golden strips of something.

He checked his surroundings to find that it was coiled around the whole room.

"Is this..." he questioned in disbelief, "_...hair?_"

A voice came from the rafters above. His gaze snapped in its direction.

"Struggling...Struggling is pointless!" the person stated, stumbling over her words.

"Huh?" He was a tad confused.

A small, feminine body jumped down, but remained hidden in the shadows. "I know why you're here, and I'm not...afraid of you."

"What?" He was now extremely confused. He squinted into the darkness to see his captor, but couldn't identify anything but the silhouette of her petite frame.

Dainty, bare feet came into the light. Then legs, then a torso, and finally... An attractive face. Her eyes were big and green, and held a bit of accusation. With his careful, amber eyes, he saw the freckles across the bridge of her nose. Golden hair trailed after her, and he assumed that the snake of blond around the room belonged to her. A frying pan was slowly lifting beside her head.

"Who are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyebrows. "And, how did you find me?"

Flynn Couldn't form any coherent words to respond, struck by her beauty.

"Who are you?" she repeated with much more fierceness. "And, how did you find _me_?"

Finally, he was able to think clearly, and cleared his throat. "I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you," he began. "But, may I just say... Hi."

He flashed a cocky grin at her, ignoring her confused expression. He thought that maybe he could charm his way out of her hair, because to be honest, it was kind of gross.

"How ya doin'?" he asked. "The name's Flynn Rider. How was your day, huh?"

She gave a slight scoff, shoving the culinary weapon in his face, "Who else knows my location, _Flynn Rider_?"

He turned his head to avoid being hit in the face.

"Alright, Blondie—"

"_Rapunzel_," she interrupted, sounding out each syllable, pressing the pan further into his personal bubble.

"Gesundheit," he stated at the strange name. "Here's the deal. I was in a situation, gallivanting through the forest. I came across your tower and...oh! Oh no!" The realization dawned on him. He panicked, and searched the small room for his leather bag that contained an important artifact. "Where is my satchel?"

She only smirked smugly at him, crossing her arms across her chest to emphasize her cleverness. "I've hidden it. Somewhere you'll never find it."

He scanned the room once more, before landing on a ceramic pot a yard from where she stood. "It's in that pot, isn't it?"

Then, she whacked him on the head with her frying pan.

His left eardrum was once again slapped, a light weight on his shoulder. He shifted his eyes to the side to see what it could be, and spotted a frog-thing with its tongue in his ear.

"Yike! Would you stop _that_?" he demanded, rubbing his ear on his shoulder to rid of any saliva.

"_Now_," Blondie enunciated with more smugness, "it's hidden where you'll never find it."

She flung her long hair back, before circling him with the pan. "So, what do you want with my hair? To cut it?"

He was confused - why would anyone want her hair? "What?"

"Sell it?" she asked from behind him, the pan dangerously close to his right jaw.

"No! Listen, the only thing I want to do with your hair is get out of it. _Li-ter-al-ly_," he clarified, attempting to wiggle out of his restraints.

"Yi—Wait... You don't want my hair?" she asked, a bit confused.

"Why on earth would I want your hair?" he asked incredulously. "Look, I was being chased, I saw a tower, I climbed it. End of story."

"You're...telling the truth?"

He could tell she was starting to believe him, but was still wary of giving her full trust into his story.

"Yes!"

She hummed a noise of discontent, frying pan slowly lowering from his face. The frog raced down her arm to the edge of the pan. It looked him up and down, as if it was trying to see if there were any flaws in his story. He saw it motioned its tail to a corner of the room, but kept a single eye on him.

Blondie moved to the corner, her hands cupped before her to hold the frog. Her back was to him, and she was whispering, but he was able to hear what she was saying with his careful hearing.

"I know! I need someone to take me!"

The green thing chirped.

"I think he's telling the truth, too."

It chirped some more.

By this time, Flynn lost interest in trying to eavesdrop on a one-sided conversation, so he began to struggle out of the human hair that tied him to the chair.

She suddenly sighed loudly, "Okay, _Flynn Rider_. I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

He was sure she didn't just say that. "_Deal?_"

"Look this way," she commanded, pulling on her hair to spin him around. The chair lost balance on two legs, forcing him to fall to the floor. She jumped up on a mantle, pulling a curtain aside.

"Do you know what these are?"

He looked to where she was, face pressed to the floor. "You mean the lantern things they do for the princess?"

How did she not know of the famous floating lanterns the kingdom of Corona did for the lost princess? It had been a tradition for eighteen years.

"Well, tomorrow _evening_," she began, "they will light the night sky with these lanterns."

_No need to state the obvious, Goldie_, he thought.

"You," she pointed her frying pan at him, "will act as my guide, take me to these lanterns, and return me home safely."

_She can't be serious_, he thought, rolling his eyes.

"Then, and only then," she said with a laugh, "will I return your satchel to you."

"Yeah," he responded, lifting himself onto his fingers to push himself to lay on his side, "no can do. Unfortunately, the kingdom and I aren't exactly 'simpatico' at the moment, so I won't be taking you anywhere."

She looked to the frog on her shoulder; it was beating a fist into its palm. She jumped down from where she stood, pulling him up with her hair.

"Something brought you here, Flynn Rider," she stated, pulling him closer. "Call it what you will: fate, destiny..."

"A horse," he corrected, giving her a bored expression.

"So, I have made the decision to trust you."

"A horrible decision, really," he commented. It was the truth.

"But, trust me when I tell you this," she growled. She pulled him closer, tilting the chair forward and supporting his weight on one arm. He was kind of surprised in her strength. "You can tear this tower apart brick by brick, but without my help, you will never find your precious satchel."

"So, let me get this straight," he said, "I take you to see the lanterns, bring you back home, and you'll give me back my satchel?"

"I promise."

He gave another bored expression, not believing her, because really, who gave out promises nowadays?

"And when I promise something, I never _ever_ break that promise."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"_Ever_."

"Alright, listen, I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice," he announced. "Here comes The Smolder."

He looked at her with heated eyes, lifted an eyebrow, and pursed his lips just enough to look irresistible. She only narrowed her eyes at him, and was surprisingly unaffected with his Smolder. It was impossible! No woman—and a few men—could be immune to The Smolder. This girl was strange, he decided.

"Fine!" he exclaimed, giving up. "I'll take you to see the lanterns!"

She gasped in happiness, retracting her hands from the chair, "Really?"

"...oops," she said, realizing her mistake.

He fell forward, his face smacking the cold floor.

"_...you broke my Smolder._"


	2. At War With Yourself

Title: You'd Be The First  
>Author: BornAverage (formerly drunk on moonshine)<br>Genre: Romance/Drama  
>Rated: T, for language and mild violence<br>Characters: Flynn/Eugene, Rapunzel  
>Chapter <strong>2<strong> of **?**

Summary: Three bashes to the head with an iron skillet, and Flynn Rider was sure he was only imagining the beautiful girl with the seventy feet of golden hair. The lingering saliva in his ear from her frog convinced him otherwise.

_Author's Note: Hi, there. Thanks to_ EugeneLoverRapunzel _for the review, Renting for the favorite and EdwardBellaAndSasuSaku4eva for the favorite and alert. It means a lot that you'd take the time out of your day to read a little story like mine. :P And, Happy 4th of July! Anyway, here's the next chapter._

Disclaimer: I don't own. :(

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><p><span class="u">His heart only pounded harder with each stab to the outer walls of the tower. This was hard work, here! It may have been twice as hard going up, but it still required strength to dislodge each arrow from the cement and place them a level lower.<span>

"You coming, Blondie?" he called up, irritated that it was taking twice as long to get down the tower than up.

Sweat began to form on his brow, the late morning sun beating down on his back. What had he gotten himself into?

He was Flynn Rider! A thief! Not some chaperone to some naïve, teen girl. A grown man shouldn't give into bribery, but he really needed that satchel. Within that leather bag was the key to his happiness: the Lost Princess' crown. To sell off that valuable piece of headpiece would have made him rich beyond his wildest dreams.

He glanced up to see that after Goldie had secured her hair around a hook above the window, she flung the train out carelessly.

_What the hell was she doing?_

She slid down her rope of hair, passing him in mere seconds. He ducked, annoyed only for a moment, not believing for a second that that was a way down. There he was, perspiring like a pig, because Blondie failed to inform him of a simpler option.

"Just smell the grass, the dirt—Just like I'd dream they'd be..."

Oh, great. She was singing. This girl had to be the strangest person he had ever met. Not only did she have a pet frog with a taste for earwax, but she acted as if she hadn't experienced nature before.

"Just feel that summer breeze, the way it's calling me..."

Twenty feet down, fifty-five to go.

"For, like, the first time ever, I'm completely free!"

Flynn's breathing only got heavier with each passing second. He had a throbbing pain behind his eyes from being hit in the head three times in under two hours, and with her singing, it felt as if it was on a verge of becoming a headache.

"I could go running, and racing, and dancing, and chasing, and leaping..."

_At least I can't hear her anymore_, he thought, glancing back to see her running closer to the place he hid from the palace horse before discovering her tower.

He looked down to see how far down he had. It was only twenty-five feet until the bottom, so he decided to try jumping down the wall. He couldn't injure himself, right? He had experience jumping down from high up before. He's had to do it numerous times, escaping from guards. Plus, if he could jump from roof to roof atop the palace, he was sure he would have no problem.

At the count of three, Flynn pushed himself off the wall, landing on his feet. A sharp pain ran up his heels to his calves, but it soon disappeared as he walked it off.

If he wanted his satchel back, he'd have to follow through with Goldie's demands.

He heard her cheery voice in the distance.

"I can't believe I did this!" she laughed.

He spotted her figure in the middle of the trees.

"Mother would be so furious."

As soon as he strode next to her, she walked further into the forest, eyebrows knit in worry. Her thin arms wrapped around herself, and fell to her side as they caught sight of a small pond.

She ditched him to sit on a stone in the middle of the water, picking up a lily to examine.

"That's okay! I mean, what she doesn't know won't kill her, right?"

She suddenly stood up, a wide smile on her face. He couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at her.

_Yep, definitely the strangest._

Blondie ran further away, and seemed to enjoy herself with the way she hummed her little song quite loudly. She gasped gleefully at a cave, skipping into it in wonder. Flynn stayed at the entrance, wondering if maybe this girl had mental issues.

Plopping herself onto the cold floor, she rocked herself in distress, "Oh, my gosh. This would kill her!"

"Seriously, Blondie, if you want to get to the lanterns in time, we should make a move on," he yelled into the cave, liking the sound of the echo of his voice.

She only nodded, standing up to walk out the cave. Flynn turned back, leading the way down a hill. He stopped at the bottom to wait for her. She was taking awhile, so he examined his cuticles.

"This is so fun!" she yelled, running down the hill and kicking up a pile of leaves on her way down.

He followed her trail of hair, to find her climbing up a tree. He looked up at the tree, getting impatient with this girl. She was like a child!

"I am a horrible daughter," she announced, her head leaning against the bark in shame. "I'm going back."

This particular sentence sparked an interest in the thief's mind. He watched her in wonder, as she used her hair like a rope to slide down from the tree.

If he could make her feel bad enough about leaving her mother, she would go back to her tower and give him back his satchel. He just needed to wait for the right moment.

She cartwheeled down a hill, screaming happily, "I am never going back!"

She rolled down the rest of the hill, her hair wrapping her up like a pig in a blanket.

"Lanterns!" he reminded her, walking further into the forest towards the kingdom. He stopped at another hill with flowers covering every inch and sat down to wait for her. As soon as she reached him, he could see her face crumpled in more shame.

She flopped down on the floor face down. "I am a despicable human being."

Rolling his eyes, he stood up and walked away from her. Her mood swings were going to make him crazy. He needed to put some space between them, and the summer sun wasn't helping him at all. He found refuge at a tree, leaning against the trunk to grab some shade.

Goldie saw him in mere minutes, and found the tree's branches intriguing. She flung her hair around one of the thick branches and used it like a swing.

"Woohoo! Best day ever!"

_How old was this girl again?_

Wait, was she crying? She stopped swinging, pulling her hair from the branches and sat down in front of some huge boulders. She sobbed into her hands.

Flynn walked up next to her, and stared at her for a moment. This was the perfect time! It didn't seem like she'd jump up and start laughing again.

He cleared his throat, then squatted down next to her, "You know, I can't help but notice you seem a little at war with yourself here."

"What?" she sniffed, looking up at him as he stood up.

"Now, I'm only picking up bits and pieces, of course. Overprotective mother, forbidden road trip... I mean, this is serious stuff. But, let me ease your conscience," he started, easing into his plan. "This is part of growing up. A little rebellion, a little adventure—that's good, healthy even!"

He brushed off the frog on his shoulder.

"You think?"

"I know. You're way over-thinking this, trust me," he assured her. "Does your mother deserve this? No. Would this break her heart and crush her soul? Of course! But, you just got to do it."

"...'break her heart?'" she asked. He could hear the shame in her voice, as he picked up a berry from a stem.

"In half."

"...'crush her soul?'"

"Like a grape," he replied, squeezing the berry in between his fingers.

"She would be heartbroken," she agreed, as if she just realized it, "you're right."

"I am, aren't I?" he asked, helping her to her feet. "Oh bother. Alright, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm letting you out of the deal."

"...what?"

"That's right, but don't thank me. Let's just turn around and get you home," he said, grabbing her frying pan and pet, "found your pan and your frog, I get back my satchel and you get back a loving mother-daughter relationship based on mutual trust and voilà! We part ways as unlikely friends."

"No!" she yelled, glaring up at him. "I am seeing those lanterns!"

"Oh, come on! What is it going to take to get my satchel back?" He was growing frustrated with this girl.

"I will use this," she threatened, the frying pan at his jaw once more.

A rustling came from the bush beside them, freaking Goldie out. She screamed, scrambling up his body, her legs wrapped around his torso to avoid touching the ground.

"What is it? Ruffians? Thugs? Have they come for me?"

A rabbit hopped out, staring up at them with it's wide eyes.

"Stay calm," he deadpanned. "It can probably smell fear."

She finally got off of him, a blush rising up her neck to her cheeks.

"Oh, huh... Sorry," she apologized, embarrassed by her reaction. "Guess I'm just a little bit...jumpy?"

To be honest with himself, he found the situation a bit amusing, and her blush a little cute.

"Probably best if we avoid ruffians and thugs, though," he suggested, with a small smirk.

"Uhuh, yeah," she agreed, the red tint lingering in her cheeks. "That'd probably be best."

He paused for a moment, another idea to rid of Blondie and getting his satchel back hitting him full force.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, a little too overenthusiastic to change the subject. "I know a great place for lunch."

"Oh, where?" she asked, smiling softly.

"Oh, don't worry," he told her, carting her off in the direction of the Snuggly Duckling. "You'll know it when you smell it."

_ _


End file.
